The Battles first stowed eight hundred barrels of our oil, greatly relieving us. Most of her cargo of trading stuff had been taken on the Clearchus, indicating that we were likely to stop at the Marquesas, and possibly at {357} some other islands. I was gratified at that, for I wanted to see the Marquesas. The division of water and provisions was unequal, the Battles being given enough to carry her home, while the Clearchus would be obliged to fill her water-casks, at least. At last she was ready to go. She cast off, for the sea, which had been unusually quiet all through the transfer, began to roughen. She did not go far, however, but lay hove to, not far from us. Captain Coffin was in the cabin with Captain Nelson, and I was sent for. I had watched the transfer of cargo and the selection of a crew for the Battles, with a mind at ease. I had taken it for granted that she would take the new men, and most of their boats. Jimmy was going, I knew, and I accepted the fact with small regret, for I found that a separation of three years had severed many of the ties which had bound us together. I went into the cabin with no small wonder what they could want of me; probably nothing more than the same old bluish-white pitcher, with something hot in it. That was not what they wanted. I was hardly in the cabin when Captain Coffin asked me whether I wanted to go with him. He added that he was going aboard the Battles within a few minutes, and if I wished, he would take me along. I was too dumbfounded to answer immediately, and Captain Nelson, taking my answer for granted, sent me out again at once, saying that I had only time to get my things together, and to hurry, at that. So I found myself outside the cabin door, stumbling up the stairs, without having uttered a word. I hurried and got my belongings into my chest, carried the chest out, and went to bid a hasty good-bye to Peter, without having come to a decision. There was a certain reluctance in my actions. I wanted more time; yes, more time, at least. But still I went. I said half a dozen words to Peter, and half a dozen words to Mr. Brown, whom I met on my way aft. If I had known the truth—and been willing to tell it, {358} which is quite a different matter—and if it had been a question merely of choosing between Mr. Brown and Jimmy, I should have chosen Mr. Brown. Of course I was glad to see Jimmy, but he was only a boy, with a boy’s interest in things, and that did not satisfy me, possibly because I had been so long without companions of my own age. Mr. Brown seemed much more of a real companion, with interests which had come to be my own. I never saw him again.